


Final Fantasy VII Crisis Core: The Novel

by Team_Wingless



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Ending, Canon - Tie-in Novel, F/M, Novel, Novelization, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 07:43:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3241727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Team_Wingless/pseuds/Team_Wingless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zack Fair is a SOLDIER in an elite paramilitary organization. But when a revered 1st Class operator goes rogue, his tight-knit family of teammates gets taken for a fatal ride. Friendships are tested and loyalties are strained as mentors abandon him, and occultic revelations threaten to consume him. An ancient daemon has awoken, promising to return and posses the world. Will Zack make it home to witness the fall of an empire, or die trying? The answer may not be what you expect...</p><p> </p><p>Full-scale novelization of the game Final Fantasy VII.<br/>Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shinra

Terminal velocity, rotor wash seared in his vox-com. He waited like a coiled spring, gaze focused, jaw taught, knees pinched together holding his bladder. This was it…

" _Kssshhhh Wutai troops have taken over Midgar City's main reactor. SOLDIER blackop Zack Fair will be low-jumped into the hotzone on my mark…"_

The com blared in crash-static, and blood rushed to his head.

"… _3…2…1…MARK."_

Zack flowed into combat-mode. The chopper door opened as a rush of aggressive wind slammed him back. He gripped the doorframe, swallowing a lump in his throat, when a huge hand fell on his shoulder.

"Don't look down," said the big man it belonged to, with dark eyes that scrutinized his technique, his composure, his body-posture, and his _Jump_ Materia. Zack winced up at him with the same shaded hue in his Mako-infused irises. All SOLDIER's had those neon-cyan eyes.

The answer to Zack's glare came as a boot-kick to the back. His mentor leapt out of the chopper after him.

Zack whirled in a catalytic vertigo, his stomach turning in a G-force knot. Cerulean sheerfractus sliced at his navy battle fatigues. At least his sword was strapped tight to his back. The blue null of the sky was a saleen supercell swirling to swallow him whole, a crystal aphelion splayed against the luminous night. He fell through umbral nothing at terminal velocity in terror, until an image flashed before his eyes, and he was no longer in this world's sky…

…He saw her wreathed in a hue of emerald, lithe and airy with hair like silky tidal waves. Ringed in a paraselene glow, she gazed at him like she'd been waiting for someone for a long time. He hung suspended in a subliminal stasis, darkness thick like molasses in a netherworld that engulfed them. She held out her hand to him…and disappeared.

He still reached for her as he toppled over and over back in the sky, stretching his body out prone in an aerodynamic fan. Coalescence ripped at his psyche, but somehow he found his equilibrium and stopped spinning.

The ground blurred into focus on an abandoned junkyard, a bonepile of scrapmetal the City called "The Train Graveyard." His training held, a slow count back from ten to keep time quelled his nerves.

_10...9...8..._

When he hit a low number, he threw his feet under him, and his Materia crystal glowed—a piezoelectric orb that fused with his aura. He landed crouched on his toes like a lynx, not an ounce of impact thanks to the ability orb. Behind him, his mentor hit standing, not needing to crouch to absorb impact—he'd done the _Jump_ correctly.

Together, they stole into the industrial railyard. Decommissioned aerotrain cars lined out in sad rank and file. Dead quiet, with the dusty tinge of burnt copper filtering through their nostrils, they prowled like feral cats through impromptu scrap corridors.

Zack's foot tripped a wire, and spotlights burst down on the two operators. _Ambush_. Wutai sentries leapt from over train cars and junk piles dressed in black stealth-camo. The big man shoved Zack on.

"Go kid! Your time to shine!"

Zack loped like a wolf straight for the mass aggregation of enemy combatants, drawing his longsword in a shining crescent sheen. This was his time, his ticket out of reserve status and into 1st Class ranks. 1st Class meant Active Duty, Green Team, door-kickers, first in and last out. That was going to be Zack if it killed him. All set, here goes nothing…

He hopped off a lead foot, stabbed through a chest plate and whipped his sword back before his feet touched dirt. Riding the momentum, he leapt in a spiraling elliptical twirl that sent a ring of troops flying like marbles. He landed back in fighter's stance, sword gripped tight in both hands.

Gunfire erupted at his flank. Bullets shattered a floodlight down on him, leaving tiny cuts across his pale face and peppering his black hair. No fear, no time. His sword came down to slice a rifle in half, then up-rushed to slice its trooper in half. He danced a sword-ballet all over the junkyard, his blade flowing about like the edging of a screw, until they all lied twitching in the twilight.

Zack's vox-com vibrated. He whipped it out like a switchblade.

" _They've started the self-destruct sequence. Get there and enter the abort code before it blows."_

Zack hung up and sprinted toward the Reactor.

Mako Reactor 1 powered the Shinra Electric Company's Headquarters, smack in the middle of Midgar City. The entire metropolis was built on top of a floating grid wholly controlled by the international energy mogul, which was the leading supplier of Magnesium Cobaltite in the developed world— _Mako_. How the city hadn't exploded from the mining fumes was a miracle. They had to practically tow-line the Plate to the ground to keep it from floating away.

SOLDIER was Shinra's elite security wing, tasked with keeping all operations safe. Too bad terrorists like Wutai had other ideas that SOLDIER's wouldn't see eye-to-eye on. So what if farmlands shriveled into dustpools during the strip-mining, and so what if Reactor 1 didn't even power any residential areas? If that hub went, the entire army went with it. Zack broke his quarter-mile time getting there.

The Reactor Compound was a massive thermal generator geared-out in gyroscopes and guard railings. Steam stacks and glowing pylons reared like electrified Tesla rods. Zack didn't think he'd make it through unchallenged, and was right.

Rogue thugs encroached on both flanks. His sword flew into action, singing a hyperslash powerballad dubbed to a speed-metal track in his head. He power-slashed through their detachment like he was playing hockey, but they kept coming.

Bulletspray to his left—Zack toppled into a sweeping dive roll. A slug struck millimeters from his hand, he felt the heat of its flash powder on his fingertips and lurched his arm back. Reacting, he launched at the gang-banger with the piss-poor aim, up-slashing, cross-slashing, and windmill-slicing to slam him to the ground. When he looked up, all enemies had been neutralized.

_Conflict Resolved._

He rested his sword on his shoulder, letting his guard down for a split second, until an edge of cerulean steel slit his earlobe.

A cold voice.

A deep voice.

"Never turn your back to an enemy…" velveteen darkness regarded him in a calm storm of syllables. "Overconfidence will destroy you."

Zack froze at the death-ring of a daikatana that grazed his cheek from behind, banishing his confident rouse to reveal a _kid_ — a twenty-something rookie with pierced ears and boots that weren't dirty yet. He turned in a cloud of shame to face his mentor, and gasped when he saw it wasn't his mentor standing there.

A tall figure like a living star stood in his wake, the sharp face of angelic darkness marred in the pale pallor of death. With hair like silver comet tails streaking down to his boots, he was the most malefic image of malevolent beauty Zack had ever beheld in his life.

That deadly daikatana streaked for him like stars. Zack flayed his sword up to cover while the beautiful man whipped his blade sidelong in slitting one-handed swipes. Zack whirled his arms at cerulean cured metal that screamed for him in razor slashes.

He cross-slashed with all his might at the man, and Zack's sword shattered. Time seemed to end in that endless second of stasis, a moment held in suspension somewhere between life and death. Zack's heart beat in his ears, all of his hopes and dreams played before him like a black-and-white theatre. A phenomenal arc-slash from the daikatana leered for the kill, but Zack found his broken sword crossed in front of him, blocking it.

The big man—Zack's mentor—shoved the malefic figure back with Zack's blade.

"GO!" he yelled at Zack, who scampered off like a streetkid up the metal-cleated steps of the Reactor. Inside was a giant nuclear fission chamber with a control panel board over the mineshaft. Zack clamored up to it as smoke steamed from overheating vents. The self-destruct countdown had begun.

Zack fumbled his fingers over the keypad, biting down on his tongue until he remembered the abort code. He muttered it out loud, typing as fast as growing up on AIM Messenger had taught him to.

_Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, start…_

He hit ENTER and threw his hands up.

…The entire facility exploded into flaming apocalypse.

Then, tone-outs. The walls around them stuttered and glitched, fading in a pixelated rain. The simulation test _BLACK BELT_ short-circuited back to dark matter algorithms, leaving the two operators in a blank grey training room.

Zack ran up to his mentor with a panicked expression, who stood with his arms crossed.

"You typed the abort code in backwards, Zack."

Blank stare. Zack didn't get it.

"The abort code is the self-destruct code backwards," his mentor explained.

Still no expression.

"What did you type in, Zack?"

 _Now_ an iota of understanding lit up behind Zack's eyes. He held a finger in the air, a big smile crossing his face, until the realization hit. He wiped that smug grin straight off.

The big man pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan, while Zack stood there shuffling his foot.

"I'm sorry, Zack, but I can't recommend you for 1st Class."

The words hit like a freight train, an electric shock straight to Zack's rocked core. He took a desperate step forward, to which his mentor held up the broken sword, leering like the shining example of his botched mission.

"Zack…" the big man bore into his student, who held in burning tears. "If you want to be a _First_ , you need to have honor."

Zack wouldn't look up to meet his gaze. It was just like a kid to have trouble accepting responsibility for his missteps. He could see the self-destructive tinge smoldering in his student's eyes, telling him he was no hero, just a dreamer.

The tall stallion of a man strode past him, adding something as he opened the simulation field door.

"…and dreams."

Zack looked up as his mentor left the training room, leaving him to mull over this day's lesson. But as the leaded sheet-glass doors slid shut automatically, his own waking dream came back to him in monochrome.

He didn't see the technovoid of hologram pattern-cameras that projected visual stimulus for rookies to practice in—had they malfunctioned? Nor did he discern the radial-mirrors that looped movement-feedback to the simulations computers lined along the walls, for a moment he didn't see his stats projected onto the overhead monitor showing he'd garnered _Zero Stars_ for this training mission.

All he saw were her eyes.

 

[Received Potion]


	2. Zack Fair

Zack Fair, 2nd Class SOLDIER, 1st Class screwup, royal dillweed extraordinaire.

He'd been a member of the elite paramilitary unit for less than a year, and already he'd busted three carbon-fiber field swords, two laser-sighted assault rifles, one cellphone, and a partridge in a pear tree. No one could figure out how he did it. He had a natural talent for being a talentless wrecking ball.

They'd bumped him up from a 3rd— _thank god_ —and assigned him to a senior member of SOLDIER for mentoring. Angeal Hewely was a hardened war veteran, a member of the famed trio known as the Silver Elite with a reputation that rumored him his own fan club.

The Silver Elite were the cream of the crop, special operators tasked with secret missions and high-profile assassinations, and Angeal was one of the best. Zack was ecstatic to be working with him—for about an hour. The man stepped up to fill a role Zack's father had apparently neglected, _disciplinarian._

When Zack was late, he got the longest lectures of his life. Angeal harped on him about his honor, his sworn word that he gave when he signed up for SOLDIER to be the best he could be, a sacred oath that should extend to everything he did in life from protecting his friends in battle to tying his boot laces to being on time for work.

"How can being two minutes late be dishonorable!"

"Count 'em out." Angeal waved him off.

Zack sighed and started squatting. "1…2…3…"

Angeal came down hard on his new student, he was a man of stern principals and iron resolve. He held his word second to nothing, the kind of man who stood on ceremony and expected the same from those around him. As if being run into the ground on a daily basis wasn't enough for Zack, Angeal demoted him to his _dog_.

"This is my new puppy, Zack," he'd say as he introduced him to other higher-ups with hands on his shoulders. "I just picked him up from the pound. I'm training him to be a fighter, but I've barely got him off using puppy-pads."

Zack slumped. Even his humanity had to be earned.

That _training_ was nothing short of hellish. Angeal would spar with him for hours in the Training Room until he literally couldn't lift his sword, and then they'd go rounds hand-to-hand since his weapon became too heavy. Zack rocked a two-hander longsword—because he was "tough" and could handle it. So Angeal never let him put it down. If Zack was going to carry it then he was going to carry it. After all, Angeal had to carry _his sword._

_His Sword._

His sword was a family heirloom, a tungsten carbide devil cleaver with a torso as big as Zack, a ball-bashing Buster Sword. Zack watched him cleaning the thing, thinking he'd never loved a woman the way he loved that sword. Weirdo.

There were days when it just got to be too much though, the enduring grind too hard and frustrating. Zack would throw his sword across the training room and sit on the floor fuming at himself, wondering if he would ever get the hang of things, wondering if he was even cut out for SOLDIER to begin with.

"Hey," Angeal would crouch down to his level, an even tone in his voice. "You followed your dreams. You made it here. You deserve to be here, and when I'm through with you you're going to make a lot of people proud."

Those anecdotes had been coming more and more frequent lately, and after being deprived of humanity for so long, he only needed one kind word to jolt him back to his feet with a mad energy to please. Small jokes had been being exchanged, little ribbing insults in good fun, and Zack felt himself pining to be in his mentor's good graces...which is why he'd made double certain to be on time for work this day.

Walking through the archologie of the Shinra Headquarters, he stopped surprised upon seeing a familiar silver-haired figure looming in a conference room. The frosted glass affected the translucency of the pane, but there was no mistaking the monolithic man's imposing form and Gunmetal-black non-standard-issue longcoat. Satellites would have trouble mistaking him from outer space.

Zack gaped. _Who was he?_ He was one of the Silver Elite, that much was obvious. The appearance of him in the training room had been a simulation but he was even more terrifying in person. Tall and tapered, packed with raw muscle that showed shirtless underneath his Kevlar coat, he leaned against a table with his arms crossed and eyes turned down as if marking the world for death.

Someone else Zack didn't recognized entered to join him. A girl about his age strode over to the big man and clicked her heels together at attention.

… _SOLDIER…?_

Were there even any girls in SOLDIER? Zack hadn't seen any, yet she wore the same pauldrons and two military stripes indicating a 2nd Class. He cocked his head.

_Well, guess so…_

The big man put his hands on her shoulders, pulling her in for a quick hug, and Zack understood. That was _his_ student! The way Zack was Angeal's student, this man had one also, and it was a cute girl! He HAD to meet her.

They resumed their serious air and Zack saw the man's lips moving, briefing her on her next mission. She phased to go-mode in a flash as her body went taut, and Zack's body went limp.

A salute, and she walked out of the conference room, _toward Zack!_

She strode with the grace of a panther, a lotus flower in human form. Shards of lilac sheered her brow—short on one side, long on the other—she didn't give two damns what anyone thought about her and wore it on the outside like a mark of pride. A blood-red side-pouch strapped to her thigh, and a blood-stained Gunblade strapped to her back, Zack was halfway to Heaven swooning on hormones and happy-thoughts.

He ran up to her wagging his tail.

"Hiya! I'm Zack, SOLDIER 2nd Cl—"

But she shot him the meanest glare he'd ever received in his life. It threw him back against the wall holding his hands up harmlessly, and she continued on down the hall minding her own business. That silver-haired monolith left the conference room soon after, following stead.

"H-hey!" Zack bounced up to him. The obvious _who are you_ question lingered en cue on Zack's painfully short attention span, but a far more immediate one came out first. "That girl. Do you know her? Who is she?"

The man shot him another glare, and Zack knew where she'd learned it from.

"No one _you_ need to worry about," he warned in a dark voice, and brushed past him on his way. His black coat flared after him like a train of feathers flowing in his wake.

_Shot down._ Twice. Rookie.

Zack sighed as he took the elevator up to SOLDIER wing and coursed down the plain white hallway with his hands in his pockets. An array of company posters lined the corridor, policy listings a mile long in print the size of ants. A minimum wage poster was tacked up with very small numbers in very large font.

_ARE YOU BEING BULLIED AT WORK?_ showed a stick figure with a sword poking another crying stick figure.

_SEXUAL HARASSMENT IS NOT OKAY!_ warned a poster depicting a lurking SOLDIER stick figure with a Buster Sword creeping up behind a girl stick figure holding flowers.

Another 2nd ran up to him around the corner. He was too distracted to recognize him immediately.

"Zack! What'up yo!"

" _Hrrngg_ , hi Kunsel." Zack was so not in the mood to get ragged on, like he knew his old buddy from SOLDIER A-School was definitely going to do. Kunsel fell in step with him.

"I heard you broke a real sword in a simulation field! Whoa! What's it like to destroy company property with your mind?"

"Like being the chosen one, or the savior, or some other really big flashy tongue-lashing target."

"Hah! You seem on edge about it."

"I can't take it! I've been trying for months to make 1st Class. At this rate I'll make active duty by the time I hit retirement." He jumped up grabbing the hallway overhang and did ten pullups, as was the ritual when anyone walked under that thing. Jordie banged his out and they continued down the wing.

"Well at least you're not like those other deserters."

"Huh?"

"Haven't you heard? There's been a mutiny in SOLDIER." Zack stopped dead as Kunsel explained. "One of the 1sts—that crazy one—he took a whole battalion of 2nds and 3rds and jumped ship. Guess they got tired of waiting for a promotion."

"There's three crazy ones and I'm stuck with one of them. There's the big one, the bigger one and the flamboyant one, more specific will'ya?"

"The flamer, yeah. I dunno. Hey are you headed to Briefing?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Maybe they'll tell you there. In the meantime I got a new phone, take my number."

Zack whipped out his phone.

"HAH!" Kunsel nearly choked on his spit. "I'm lovin' the pink!"

"It's not pink! It's plumb!"

"You know I heard corporate assigns the _plumb_ ones to knuckleheads who lost theirs on basic training missions."

Zack grimaced, smoke practically billowing by his ears. "Whatever."

Kunsel called him and Zack saved his number.

"Alrighty, I'll see you later Zack-Attack, email if something comes up."

Zack threw him a two-finger lazy salute and headed to the stairwell. He reached the Director of SOLDIER's office and let himself in.

Inside was a large conference room with a lacquered-rosewood business table equipped with holodecks for each chair. Angeal and another man sat in front of their decks looking over readouts on their screens. The man Zack didn't recognize rose to receive him.

He looked like the kind of guy that came out of a box imported from some exotic foreign country, assembled in a sweatshop by nimble-fingered villagers and displayed on a runway downtown during Fashion Week. His gold hair was freshly permed and smelled of a chemical residue, and his fitted suit suggested a religious preference revolving around a peculiar form of tailor-worship.

"Zack," he smiled, "I've heard a lot about you. Lazard, Director of SOLDIER."

_This_ was their Director?

The man extended his hand in that guarded professionalism of business-casual. Zack regarded him, decided he wasn't going to bite, and shook it.

"Yo."

The overhead computer threw a projection onto the big OLED screen above the conference table. Zack saw a mugshot of a rust-haired SOLDIER complete with stats and background intel.

"SOLDIER 1st Class Genesis," said Lazard. "A month ago, he went missing on a mission to Wutai…"

Angeal sat running a hand over jet hair he'd slicked back like an oil spill, eyes fixed on the shot of this mystery man named Genesis.

Lazard pinched his chin. "SOLDIER 1st Class Sephiroth has been dispatched to hunt him down, and he's requested backup. We've decided to send you."

"Uh, who's _Sephiroth_?"

Angeal and Lazard both looked at Zack like he was crazy.

"…The _hero of Shinra_. The bloody harbinger himself. He's been in every major war since you've been born."

"…Oh," Zack replied.

Angeal sighed like he was debating with himself, and had come to a reluctant decision.

"Zack…I've recommended you for 1st Class."

_WHAAAAAAA?!_

Zack beamed, a mad laughter seizing him. He couldn't believe it!

"AHHHHHH! Angeal!" He tackled his mentor in a big bear hug, jumping and shaking with his tail wagging. "Aw I love you, man! Angeal—"

Angeal shoved him off with a huge paw.

"Don't make me change my mind."

Zack stood at attention, a huge stupid smile still on his face.

"Get your gear sorted. We'll leave at 1200 hours. I'm counting on you."

"SIR!" he stood up even straighter, with an even stupider sparkle of triumph in his eyes.

"Zack," Lazard interjected. "SOLDIER's are the best there is. Most only dream of standing where you are now, and as such, I will be ranking you on this next mission personally. If you don't mind me imploring, what is _your_ dream, Zack? To become 1st Class?"

"No Sir," Zack struck a melodramatic pose. "To become a hero!"

Angeal face-palmed and Zack winced, cocking his head like a puppy.

"You've got two hours Zack. I'll see you at the helipad."

Zack nodded. He knew the real meaning behind Angeal's instructions was _don't be late this time_. He clicked his heels together, did a full parade-dress turnabout and left the conference room.

_Don't trip don't trip don't trip._

 

[Received Force Bangle]


	3. Sephiroth

Angeal and Zack ran like shadows through the knell of thick night, cloaked in that familiar darkness that was friend to all SOLDIER's. They skidded to a halt at a crossroad under a waxing moon, and Angeal took stock of their mission.

"Fort Tamblin is straight ahead. Let's hurry, Bravo Team is standing by."

The deer path the Predator Drone had marked for them wound through dense wilderness. They prowled on soft feet through the shadows when an indigo apple on the ground caught Angeal's attention…There were no apple trees here.

_"…Dumbapples…"_ Angeal muttered.

"Did you say something?" asked Zack.

"Nothing. Nevermind. Let's go."

They came to a pagoda and crouched behind some brush. The Fort.

Angeal scanned the target.

"Bravo Team will blow the front gate. That's our cue. You'll charge the base and earn your rank."

Zack's eyes were alight with excitement. He turned back to the pagoda, using those strategic brain muscles to plan his attack. But ten minutes went by, then twenty, and still no signal.

" _AAAARRRRGGGH._ C'mon Bravo Team!" he bounced and fidgeted, energy zigzagging through his taut body.

In a moment of reflection to pass the time, Angeal unsheathed his sword, held it to his forehead in silent prayer, and resheathed it. Zack's eyes implored, his raised eyebrows did the rest.

"You know, I've never actually seen you use that…Don't you think it's sort of a waste?"

Angeal _harrumphed_ . "Use brings about wear, tear, and rust...And that's a real waste."

He said it so matter-of-factly, like he'd pulled it straight from the Webster's dictionary. Zack rolled his eyes.

Then. Explosion. _The signal_.

Angeal shot to the edge of the brush, his gaze whipped back to Zack.

"Go!"

And that one word sent Zack leaping off toward the fort. It was time to go hunting.

Running into the pagoda, two adjacent watch-towers stood on either end of the main gong-tower in front of him. He ninja'd his way up to the roof, crouched down at the edge and took stock of his situation.

An evil grin crept across his face. Four guards, heavily armed. _Good, a challenge._

He dropped right in the middle of their formation. A flying crescent-slash felled all four of them, and a reverse-slash sent them flying. Not bad, two hits.

After he dispatched them, his phone went off. He flipped it to his ear.

"Were you able to get inside?" Angeal spoke from the other line. Zack rubbed the back of his head.

"Well I dunno, she had some issues and wasn't that cute anyway. Figured I'd stay off that on-ramp."

"The fortress, Zack. Focus. Intel says Wutai's greatest warrior is in the Fort, but that can't be because he's been dead for years. It could be Genesis in disguise."

"If I win, do you think I'll make 1st?"

"If you _live_ , we'll talk about it."

He clicked on Angeal and ran off to start a fight, bloodlust in his eyes.

Zack proceeded onto the main pagoda, a rock garden complete with cherry blossom trees surrounding its perimeter. He started up the steps to the entrance when a voice stopped him in his tracks…

" _Freeze scumbag!_ "

Zack dropped into combat stance. The voice came from ahead.

" _Prepare for trouble, make it double!"_

_Dafuq?_ This isn't a video game!

" _Ugly Shinra SOLDIER dudes…must die_!"

A little kid hopped out on top of the steps ready for a good old fashioned beat down, hair cropped short under a dojo bandana and shoelaces left untied.

Zack cocked his head. "Who are you?"

"I'm Wutai's greatest warrior! That's who! If you wanna go further, you have to go through me!"

"A kid…?" Zack stood dumbfounded. "Go home. This is a warzone. It's dangerous here!"

"You're the one who's going home! You come any further, you'll have a fight on your hands!"

"Oh man…what am I supposed to do here?" Zack rubbed the back of his head. It was obvious this _wasn't_ his quarry, but now he had to improvise. "Alright kiddo, you got me! Now go tell your parents about how you beat me up!"

"Better yet, I'll show them!"

She ran down the steps and punched him straight in the crotch.

_OOOOOOFH!_

Zack went down cross-eyed as she snagged his Fire Materia and ran away laughing.

"That'll teach you to mess with me! I've brought peace to Wutai!"

_Ohh, it's going to the stomach!_

Zack groaned on the ground in agony for a minute until his phone rang. He knew Angeal was watching from somewhere. He let it go to voicemail, got up, shook himself out, and went back to work.

He ran up the stairs to the pagoda entrance and shoulder-bashed through the doors. Inside was a round arena-like space, devoid of furniture and held up by columns and pillars. But no one else was there.

His phone rang again.

"'sup Angeal?"

"Having _trouble_ Zack?" He could practically feel the smirk in Angeal's voice.

" _No,"_ Zack grimaced. "It looks like the target fled. There's no one left here."

"Good work. Fall back to the rendezvous spot."

"Understood." He clicked on him and looked around once more, throwing his arms wide in triumphant display. "Hey Director Lazard! Are you watching?"

He started at a trot toward the entrance. "Gonna make First, gonna make First, oh yeah, gonna make First."

Angeal and Zack rendezvoused in a thicket a mile out from the Fort. Lazard was there with two infantrymen escorts. He stepped on something and shook his foot out. The guy wore Gucci and Prada out in the field and complained about it!

"Let's hurry," said Angeal. "Sephiroth and Bravo Team are waiting on the other side."

Zack pricked up. "Sephiroth?"

A whirling sound sliced air as two shuriken struck the infantrymen dead where they stood. Zack and Angeal whipped around as two more shot for them, but Zack drew his sword in a flash batting them back at their assailants, and two Wutai troops fell dead from the trees.

More troops dropped down, surrounding them and closing in. _Ambush_.

Zack rushed in a gallant flourish, adrenaline shooting in electric jolts. He drove his sword through the chest of one trooper, back-stabbed a troop behind him, then spin-slashed in a hyperphonic sword-twirl. He ran to strike another, but they'd all fallen, his body took a moment to come down from the surge. He couldn't stop shaking.

"Zack! Come on!" called Angeal. Zack found him and Lazard studying the bodies he'd rebounded the shuriken at. But more troops rallied from ahead, rushing in arrowhead formation for them. Angeal dropped into combat stance.

"Take the Director to safety," he ordered Zack.

"Call Sephiroth!" ordered Lazard.

"Zack is more than enough. Now go!"

Zack looked back at Angeal once before hurrying away with Lazard.

He bash-barreled through underbrush with the Director in tow. Captain Pretty-boy better have been grateful that Zack was clearing a path for him and his nice clothes while leaving Angeal behind to make due on his own. They reached the helispot where a detachment of Shinra paratroopers waited on standby.

"Go help Angeal!" called Lazard.

But Zack was already racing back the way he came, running like someone else's life depended on it.

He charged down the game trail calling Angeal's name, but there was no response. Angeal was nowhere, yet the two Wutai bodies still laid splayed out like hunted deer. Zack went over to them, taking a closer look.

"What?" he stood confused. "These guys aren't Wutai troops…"

He looked up as a floating orb of Materia hovered to him like a bubble. It flashed malefic red, and before him appeared a creature conjured from the depths of Hell itself.

The daemon Ifrit stood like a pair of behemoths stacked on top of each other, with cloven feet and abbadonian horns wreathed in immortal flame.

"An Eidolon!" exclaimed Zack. "Who called it?"

A towering colossus of unholy majesty, Ifrit rushed for Zack in a stampeding barrage, while Zack dove away equipping his Ice Materia. He was definitely going to need it for this one.

The fire-beast sent a wall of flame hurling at Zack in an infernal nuclear nimbus, while Zack threw up an Ice Barrier. It melted in seconds, but kept him safe long enough to start hurling ice magic at its head. Fire missiles shot for Zack as he ducked and dodged, rolling away while sending ice rockets flying right back mid-strafe. Calamity cast down on them in apocalyptic maleficence as a Fire and Ice spell collided in the midst of their battle arena, the blastwave sending Zack toppling across the ground.

As the creature prepared another stampeding rush, Zack charged a Power-Slash, imbuing all the Ice Magic he had left. The demon ran at Zack, he leapt to the side, and overhead slashed with all his might. Everything he had left pierced through the unholy carapace of the fire daemon…and did absolutely zero damage.

Now Zack was out of magic.

The creature stood up, sending a pyroclast of flame at him in a tidal wave of nuclear heat. He ducked, preparing for the blow, waiting to be bathed in wildfire.

But something flashed in front of him, something holding the wall of fire at bay. An infernal angel stood with his daikatana out like a proclamation to the sun, guarding Zack against the fray. His eyes were dark against the fire, his countenance smoldering as if to challenge the sun. A single slash and Ifrit had fallen, the blinding explosion bathing him in hot aural radiance as he drove his blade skyward. The silver-haired monolith held his ground, victorious in a flowing black longcoat that waved against the wind.

"Holy…" Zack stood taken aback, as if he had witnessed an avenging angel absolve him.

_Was this…Sephiroth?_

The man went to kneel down by the bodies. He turned one over and all was as he had feared.

" _Genesis_ ," he said.

Zack went over to the body. He recognized the face, the same from the mug shot in briefing.

"The missing SOLDIER 1st Class?"

Sephiroth turned the other body over, and Zack gasped. "They're identical!"

"A Genesis copy," explained Sephiroth.

"Copy? A human copy?"

Sephiroth looked up at him with urgency. "Where's Angeal!"

"I thought he was fighting around here…" Zack stammered. He looked around on the ground, no tracks, as if he'd vanished without a trace.

Sephiroth grunted and stood. "So he's betrayed us as well."

"What?" Zack spun around aghast, panic edging his voice. "NO WAY! I know what kind of guy Angeal is. And he'd never do that!"

He pursued Sephiroth, who looked to the sky seemingly for answers that weren't there. The dark man turned to face Zack, the young hunter standing strong and ready to fight all the forces of the world. Sephiroth regarded him, boring into Zack's eyes, as if he knew better, and Zack faltered yet again.

"Who do you think summoned that Eidolon?" asked Sephiroth in an almost reassuring tone, it hit Zack like a curse.

"Angeal wouldn't betray us! Never!" He shook his head, yet terrible tears welled up in his eyes. He stepped back from Sephiroth, angry fire rising to cover pain the big man knew was there. Sephiroth let him. Zack would learn the ways of the world the hard way, this twenty-something kid with pierced ears and spiked hair would know what it meant to grow up.

 

[Received Ifrit Materia]


	4. Angeal

To: Angeal.J.Hewely@Soldier.Shinra.mil

From: ZackFair21@SOLDIER _._ Shinra _._ mil

CC/BCC: None

Re: Talk to me

Angeal—It's Zack. Command told me not to try contacting you but I'm doing it anyway.

It's been a month now. Sephiroth's got it all wrong, lumping you together with Genesis. Genesis is a deserter who took a bunch of 2nds and 3rds with him. I know you would never condone something like that. You value your SOLDIER honor more than anyone else.

Angeal, just come back, please! Or if you don't want to come back, come find me. I go on a lot of missions out in the Wastelands on purpose, I'm easy to spot. I don't know what's going on but you're my friend and I respect you, and I trust you. Whatever's up I want to help.

Please.

Talk to me.

—Zack

 

Zack was all long gazes and quiet zoning in the Paragon transport chopper, whisking him over far green countryside toward his next mission: _Banora._ Genesis' hometown. Lazard thought there might be information there, but judging by the black-suited Turk strapped in next to him, Zack suspected a trap where he was the unwitting bait.

Words filtered back to him in echoes.

"Zack, it takes more than pride to become First," Angeal had said to him what seemed like a long time ago now. Zack had just smiled in triumph with his chest puffed out and his hands on his hips.

"Whatever it takes I've got it. And if I don't got it I'll get it! I will fulfill my dreams, and I _will_ become a hero."

Angeal had regarded him, and turned away. It was the day he'd decided to take him on as his student.

"Very well, then you have my support."

They touched down on the outskirts of a farming village nestled on a prairie. Before them loomed a veranda of bowed white trees like the ribcage of a great beast buried halfway in the ground. Zack and his Clandestine escort walked through the overhang of indigo apples hanging from drooping boughs like bells.

"… _Dumbapples?"_ Zack peered at the fruit, and the Turk regarded him.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Angeal said it once. Where are we?"

"Banora. Genesis used to pick apples here before he joined SOLDIER."

"So how did Angeal know about them?"

Sharp eyes peered at him through slanted slits.

"This is _Angeal's_ hometown as well." Zack gasped at the Turk's emotionless explanation. "They grew up together, and were close friends."

Continuing on in silence, they came to a village of colonial style farm houses. Dead quiet. Litter blew across the dirt streets. To their left a small chapel stood made of brownstone, with a graveyard outside its rectory. However, the earth covering the graves had been disturbed…freshly dug.

The Turk's phone rang.

"Special Agent Tseng…" he answered. "…There is no one here. The town is empty. We can assume the worst…Understood."

He hung up his phone and nodded Zack into the town.

"Search the village…I'll check the graves."

Zack winced and headed off down the main avenue. Might as well start at the first house and work his way down. He picked a modest cottage at the end of a cul-de-sac and let himself in...and froze.

An old woman sat motionless at the table, hands folded in her lap.

"Can I help you?"

"Uh..." Zack choked on his words, until he saw the Buster Sword leaning against the wall. "I'm looking for someone named Angeal. Do you know him?

"He is my son. Who are you? What do you want with him?"

"…I'm his student."

The old woman looked away, as if looking through him.

"Are you Zack, the puppy?"

"Excuse me?"

She chuckled, so welcoming. "My son wrote to me once about you. _Zero attention span, restless as a little puppy_."

Zack grimaced. The old woman let her eyes fall down to her folded hands in sadness.

"Genesis came back here with an army of cohorts, and they proceeded to take the lives of many townspeople. Genesis…he used to be such a good boy."

Zack stood stone, afraid to hear her words. His eyes were pulled instead to the Buster Sword leaning sanctimoniously against the wall, mimicking how he himself leaned against the same wall, like they were brethren.

"That sword represents our family's honor," said the woman, gazing upon him with wise eyes. He saw where Angeal got his from. "When Angeal joined Shinra, my husband had that sword made for him, in the hopes that he would become an honorable warrior. We had to borrow a lot of money to have it made, and then, while fervently trying to return all the money, my husband succumbed to fatigue."

Zack sighed, sadness welling up in him that he pushed back. "It wasn't in vain. He didn't just become an honorable warrior, he became a hero. He taught me everything I know about honor, he's the shining example for all of us in SOLDIER. If you could see him in action, I know you'd be very proud of him."

"I am proud of him. He is more than an honorable warrior, he is an honorable son, a devoted husband, and a doting father."

Zack pricked up, he'd never heard that about Angeal. He sensed he was about to learn a part of his life that he'd kept sheltered and secret.

"…Angeal and his wife were very happy together, but they were having trouble conceiving. When she opted to adopt, he was so ecstatic, but that's where their problems began. They'd agreed that he was going to take a higher-paying job in his company, move up into a White Collar management position, but he couldn't bring himself to leave SOLDIER. He couldn't make himself work in a desk for his family, he viewed it as selling his soul. However, she viewed it as the responsibility he signed up for when he chose to have a family. He tried to compromise, taking on more and more missions to bring in more money, at the price of his time at home with her and his daughter. I tried to help them out as much as I could, but the poverty just got to be too much. The stress overwhelmed her. She and the baby left him about a year ago. The last I heard she remarried and now sells flowers in Winhill."

Zack stood stunned. How something that terrible could have happened to Angeal was beyond him, he'd never said anything about it. And the looming thought of something else hovered just over the cusp of an epiphany.

A year ago is when he had taken Zack as his student.

He caught something out of the corner of his eye. He went to a bureau where family photos were arranged in simple frames…was that a picture of Zack in a photo?

_Oh a picture of Angeal!_ Zack realized. _Wow, he's young_. _Must have been taken when he first joined SOLDIER._

He scanned the photos intimately.

_And there's that Buster Sword. Look at him showing that thing off. And he tells me to calm down!_

Another family photograph.

_This must be Angeal's father…He looks as serious as I imagined him._

And a picture Zack would have paid money to keep as collateral.

_Baby picture! This is Angeal? HAH he's so fat! Aw how adorable…_

But he realized quickly that he'd been mistaken. The baby in the picture was dressed in pink, cradled by a woman with auburn hair draped low around her hips. She was slight as a flower with eyes like irises, and arms like vines that wrapped around the little infant like a net. Zack studied her for a long moment, feeling a twinge in his heart for Angeal.

_Now, these two little runts must be Angeal and…Genesis…He and Genesis have been friends for most of their lives. That's a pretty long time, longer than…_

Zack pulled himself away from the photographs then. He didn't want to finish the thought that threatened to creep up in him, a terrible looming truth he needed to deny with everything he was.

She looked over at him pleading. "Please be a good friend to my son."

And something came over him, sacred and final. He knelt like a knight at her side.

"I'll take care of Angeal. You should go hide somewhere."

She looked away with a proud gaze, enshrouded in an enlightening aura.

"Do not be concerned. Genesis…cannot harm me."

He wanted to press her, but something held him back. He left the house with a heavy heart and stood on the threshold gazing at the sky.

Tseng called him.

"Come to the factory on the outskirts of town. I saw a Genesis copy go in."

Zack headed there from the Northeast ascent like the battle layouts at briefing had shown him, and found Tseng on a clifftop overlooking the facility.

"The missing 2nds and 3rds, some of them were in those graves."

The color rushed from Zack's face.

"His own unit? How could he!"

Few things shook a SOLDIER more to the core than blue-on-blue. The uniform meant family, and murder held a special sort of sadism in their hearts.

"Some probably had second thoughts about deserting. What about Angeal?"

Zack was quiet for a moment, looking down in morbid recollection. "He wasn't at the house."

Tseng looked away as if contemplating some business decision he really didn't want to have to make. Zack saw it, and a sense of urgency seized him like a bullet to the chest.

"But please, give me time! If I find Angeal, I can talk to him. If I can convince Angeal, maybe Genesis will come back too."

The sheer naiveté behind Zack's plea was like a child still blind to the world, his desperate zeal fulminating in innocent eyes. Tseng looked away and nodded.

"I understand now why Sephiroth chose you for this mission…"

Zack cocked his head.

"…Genesis and Angeal. Those two were Sephiroth's closest friends. He didn't want to fight them. That's why he refused this mission."

"Well, Angeal is my friend too!"

Tseng nodded again, but this time at Zack.

"He's counting on you to bring them both back. Let's go."

Zack broke through the ceiling glass of the factory, landing crouched on the floor. Tseng dropped down behind him with his colt pistol already out, scanning in a grid.

The factory was empty save for numerous shipping boxes stacked along the walls and two levels of elevated catwalks. Zack followed Tseng down to the lower level into a storage room with an old fashioned metal desk and an ancient box monitor.

Tseng checked the computer. "Looks like the copies are being made here. Check the second floor. Genesis may be there."

Zack nodded and hurried through a far doorway leading upstairs, ignoring the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. He climbed two flights of stairs to an abandoned loft-space, where light seeped in through the double-stacked panes of factory windows like milk.

" _When the war of the beasts brings about world's end, The Goddess descends from the sky,"_ came a voice like a playwright's sonnet.

There, seated upon the floor in romantic reverence, an arm on his knee and a book in his hand, Zack saw him.

_" Wings of light and dark spread afar, fortelling his day to die."_

He was a dashing rogue with cheekbones like a sculpted marble statue, and a rust-colored shag cut sheared with a sharpened stiletto. He borrowed the look of Sephiroth's pauldroned coat, but instead of Gunmental black, his was in Tiamat red. Silver bangles hung from his ears, Zack had pierced ears but not _that_ pierced. He took one look at him and thought _yep, totally the kind of guy who wouldn't want a wife._

He looked up at Zack with eyes that knew something he didn't, eyes that seemed to know him better than he knew himself.

Zack held his ground until Tseng ran up behind him, his colt drawn but his barrel still pointed skyward. Then they saw the cryotank in the corner, filled with liquid Mako that gleaned in an eerie neon glow. Tseng hurried to it aghast, and through the observation port, all their fears were realized.

A Genesis copy floated in the gel.

"Where are the SOLDIER's you kidnapped?" demanded Tseng.

Genesis stood up throwing his coat tails behind him like a flowing cape, a tall imposing force of errant beauty that thought too highly of himself. He faced the two operators with a building rage in his eyes, his hand poised as if to summon a specter.

He glared as a slowly flaring light emanated from his palm.

"SHINRA LAPDOGS!"

A Fira cast jettisoned Tseng and Zack out through the door they'd come through, back like a meteor bolt sprawled across the steps. Zack ripped his sword from his back with a fury that dwarfed rage and ran back up to face the rogue SOLDIER 1st Class. But Genesis had vanished, a hole in the roof above where he'd been.

Zack ran down for the main entry bunker door to go after him, where a pair of Genesis copies leapt to disembowel them. Fired gunshot dropped them just as quickly. Zack turned to see Tseng fully recovered and holding his colt pistol on target.

More Genesis copies spawned seemingly from nowhere to ambush them as they both dropped into combat stance.

"The Airstrike is inbound! Are you sure there's nobody at Angeal's house?" asked Tseng.

"…"

"Hurry!"

And Zack dashed past the copies as Tseng laid down suppression fire for him. He rushed out of the factory, down the path through the cliffs careening toward Angeal's house for dear life.

When he got inside, he froze.

There on the floor Angeal's mother lied dead. He gasped as the weight of what he was seeing sank into him, her life gone from her body, sucking the life from his chest.

He stumbled back, unable to breath, unable to think. A sigh behind him made him turn, and he saw Angeal leaning against the wall—a dead look in his eyes and his Buster Sword unsheathed in his hand.

"What the hell did you do Angeal!" Zack slammed into him, rage overtaking him. He shoved Angeal back, bashing him into the wall again and again, but Angeal didn't fight him. Zack punched Angeal square in the jaw, sending him flying out the front door to topple across the ground like a corpse.

Angeal struggled to his feet, clutching his sword seemingly for dear life. A dead look in his eyes spread throughout his entire body.

"My mother…could not continue to live." His voice cracked ever so slightly. "And neither can her son."

" _I told you,_ " another voice called like a song, and Genesis appeared on the roof of the house. He leapt down before Zack, leering at Angeal. "You can't live on that side anymore."

Angeal struggled, fighting a war with himself. The brooding storm he'd always kept at bay had finally broken free, engulfing him in a living hell. There was nothing left to do, and he had nothing left to say. He sheathed his massive sword, and walked off.

"Angeal!" Zack ran after him, but Genesis caught his leg sending him flying over the same place he'd punched Angeal to. Zack struggled to his stomach, grief welling up so great his limbs wouldn't move. "ANGEAL!"

But Angeal kept on, not glancing back at Zack, leaving him down and alone.

" _My friend, do you fly away now? To a world that abhors you and I?"_ Genesis' voice followed him like the wind.

"SHUTUP!" screamed Zack.

" _All that awaits you is a somber morrow."_

" _SHUTUP!_ I'M WARNING YOU _!"_

" _No matter where the winds may blow…"_

The rage flowed through Zack again like fire thawing his grief-frozen muscles, and he turned on Genesis with a savage hunger that pulled him to his feet.

"Why are you doing this? What happened to dreams and honor!"

He bore into Genesis with a stare that could summon daemons, but Genesis gazed longing and lost out into a private abyss.

"We are…monsters…We have neither dreams nor honor."

He touched the brim of his forehead with two fingers, then flayed his hand out like a proclamation, unveiling a single charcoaline wing.

Zack leapt back aghast at the one-winged angel.

Black feathers floated around Genesis as he glanced back at Zack over his shoulder. The distant hum of helicopter rotors intensified over the mountains. The airstrike and evac were very near.

Genesis leapt into the air, flying off against the sun. In one breath he was gone, and Zack was truly alone.

 

[Received Silver Earrings]


	5. First Class

"Angeal, the war is over. Everyone's real happy. As for me…"

Zack flashed back to the image of Angeal's Buster Sword leaning against the wall of his home, and his mother looking down at her folded hands with a sad look in her soft eyes.

" _That sword represents our family's honor."_

He saw Angeal holding the sword to his head in silent prayer at Wutai.

Now Zack stood alone in SOLDIER wing, unable to mesh the Angeal he knew with the Angeal he'd lost. He sighed, defeated.

Then his phone went off, and he flicked it to his ear.

There was no answer on the line for a long moment, he thought someone had pocket-called him. Then a voice he could never forget spoke to him from the other line, said one thing, and hung up.

"Come to Lazard's office."

_Sephiroth?_

Zack hung a right, then a left down the South Hall past the R&D Department's Research Room toward Briefing, where a gaggle of white-coated lab techs gathered outside the frosted glass observation window. They were giddy as school children, biting their nails and whispering amongst themselves while peering nervously at whatever was inside. Zack stopped for a minute to take a look too.

"What's going on here?" he asked one of the lab-rats.

"A new experiment! Doctor Hojo is about see Project Gemini fully realized!"

Zack scratched his head. "Project Gemini?"

"He's successfully transplanted cells from a Cetra onto a high-level monster, effectively neutralizing its feral instincts and bending it to the will of Shinra instead. This is a breakthrough in Bioweapons engineering, and if all goes well we may be seeing imbuement with armor and Materia insets within the next year."

Zack peeked through the glass at a massive King Behemoth that thrashed about while hooked up to wires and tubes, and a spindly little man with a pony tail in a white coat wringing his hands in satisfaction like a mad scientist. The man pressed a button on a control panel, and a searing electric current zapped the Behemoth into a roaring rage. A minute later, it stopped thrashing, going limp like an obedient dog.

"And you guys think this is a good thing?" Zack winced.

"Oh yes! We'll be able to cut the casualty rate of the Security Forces and the ARMA weapons development budget in half. Imagine the implications for modern science!"

Zack walked away disgusted and continued down the hall. A buzzing informed him of incoming email, he whipped his phone out and read a company-wide memo in his inbox.

 

To: —Shinra Personnel Email List—

From: Do-Not-Reply@MailerDaemon.Shinra.mil

Re: Shinra News

We hereby declare an end to the war with Wutai. Worthy of note is Sephiroth, SOLDIER 1st Class, whose contributions were instrumental in bringing about a peaceful resolution with a minimum of casualties. We thank you all for your steadfast service.

President Shinra

 

_WHAT!? Sephiroth was with Bravo Team! What's all this about his 'heroic efforts?' They don't mention me at all!_

Zack slumped halfway to the ground. Heroes were chosen by the media after all, and it's not as if Sephiroth had much control over what the PR Department put in their press releases.

He took the elevator up two floors to Lazard's office. Sephiroth was there going over readouts on an iPad. He looked up at Zack, but Zack didn't look at him. Suddenly he really didn't want to talk to him, or Lazard for that matter. He went to Lazard's desk and stood at attention.

"Congratulations, Zack," Lazard said with folded hands. "You've been promoted to SOLDIER 1st Class."

Zack stood stone. A whirlwind of emotions that had been churning for a long while suddenly went completely numb. Usually, a mentor was supposed to be present for his student's promotion, but since his mentor was _indisposed_ , it appeared Sephiroth had offered to stand in for the announcement. This was the moment he'd been dreaming about for such a long time, ever since he became SOLDIER, and now that it was finally here, Zack felt…nothing.

Lazard nodded with knowing eyes.

"Too much has happened too fast. But Zack, I'm afraid I need your assistance again."

What Zack heard was _I need you to do someone else's job, go through a world of heartache and not get any credit for it…again._

He looked away disgruntled and caught Sephiroth staring at the floor. "Are you pushing another assignment on me?"

That wasn't directed at Lazard, that was for the big man who leaned sanctimoniously against the wall. Now he had to look Zack in the eye and own up to him personally.

The alarm on Sephiroth's phone went off, a theme that reminded Zack of chocobos. It saved him. He took out his Black RAZR and turned the chime off.

"Excuse me," he said, then left the room going into Lazard's bathroom outside in the hall.

_What the heck does this guy have his bowels on a freaking schedule?_

Zack shook the aggravation and crossed his arms at-ease, not needing anyone to give him the command to do so. He was done being an obedient puppy.

"I'll fill you in on the assignment," Lazard said. "But before that, go to the lockerroom and change into a SOLDIER 1st Class uniform. It should be hanging outside your locker, and one way or another, you've earned it."

Zack nodded, kicked the full parade-dress turnabout to the curb, and left the office.

Down in the lockerroom he found his uniform on a metal hanger on his locker, along with a bulging manila envelope containing his new I-9's and a forest worth of paperwork. Going from gear-stipend to wage was fun stuff apparently, especially after a failed mission. He changed from his 2nd Class SOLDIER blues into his new 1st Class SOLDIER uniform—the same thing he'd been wearing, only in black.

_Wow, movin' up in the world._

He threw the envelope in his locker and walked out into the hallway a 1st. But if he had any hopes of being descript, they shattered when his friends saw him strutting his Gunmetal black fatigues.

"OHHHH MAN _THIS GUY!"_ They all ran to him, Kunsel, Luxiere, Damaris and a guy they called "Swift." They bash-barreled into him, hugging him and slapping him on the back, ruffling his hair, shouting in wild celebration that one of their own had made the cut.

"You are the man! You are the freaking man Zack-Attack!"

"It's Zack-in-Black now guys," said Luxiere, pinching Zack's new digs. Zack just smiled and said nothing.

"So DUUUUDE, we heard what happened in Banora!"

"Yeah man, they freaking leveled the place!"

"You alright bro? Tell us what happened."

"Yeah man, what went down?"

"Tell us Zack."

They all stared at him in anxious anticipation, salivating like he was about to tell them he got laid. The sensation of being backed into a corner with no escape shot his heart-rate sky-high, and his eyes shifted quickly to each one of them. Finally he just shoved his way through them and kept walking to the elevator. They all stared at him as he went, worried about him, not recognizing him.

Behind the closed doors of the elevator he took a deep breath. He got off and went to stand at attention by Lazard's desk, who looked him up and down with something like satisfaction in his eyes.

"A hit has gone out on Genesis," said Lazard as he stood up. "Angeal as well."

Zack's jaw hit the ground. "And you want _me_ to do it?"

"No, the Shinra Army will handle it."

"What about _me_?"

"They don't trust you. They believe your emotions will hamper your…judgment."

"Well of course!" Zack leaned on Lazard's desk, this was a bloody nightmare.

A velveteen voice broke his spiraling.

"That's why I'm going too."

Zack's world froze again, the spinning in his head became calm. He stood up off Lazard's desk, facing Sephiroth for a long time, eyes boring into him like a sword.

Then, the alarm! Red lights flashed in Lazard's office and security walls came down.

"An intruder!" Lazard leapt up.

"Where?"

"Close. Sephiroth, the President! Zack, entrance!"

They both nodded and ran out together, falling in step without meaning to. Sephiroth raced to the stairs and Zack hit the elevator, punching G for ground level.

When he got to the entrance, he saw Genesis clones ransacking security forces.

He drew his sword. "Is Genesis responsible for this?"

Zack rushed in to do major damage in minimal effort.

A clone flew at him and he slid on his knees. His whirling sword caught the clone right in the groin. Popping back to his feet, he slash-drew a six-pointed star all around him and clones dropped contorted on the ground in agony. A playful Zack folded his hands in prayer and gave a slight bow.

Zack looked up from the Genesis copies and saw Sephiroth running to him from the stairs.

"Sephiroth! The intruders are Genesis copies!"

Sephiroth slashed a clone nearly in half as he talked. "I know! Hollander must be behind this."

"Who?" Zack arc-sliced another clone and jumped back-to-back with Sephiroth.

"A Shinra scientist," said Sephiroth as he scanned Zack's six. "Vanished after lifting the copy technology."

"So this Hollander and Genesis are working together?"

"Perhaps," another whipslash sent a leaping clone flying. Zack took three more of them in a spinning crescent-slash and it looked like they had a reprieve.

"What is it that they're after…?" Zack asked out of breath.

Sephiroth flicked the gunk off his daikatana. "Hollander lost his bid for the leadership of the Science Department."

"So he's helping Genesis for revenge?"

Then, Zack heard music like a thousand warring angels descending from the sky; an unholy portent of aural reverence serenaded in celestial choirs and pipe organs of apocalyptic doom…Sephiroth answered his phone.

"This is SOLDIER 1st Class Sephiroth…Understood…" He hung up and shot Zack an urgent look. "Genesis copies are attacking Sector 8. Let's go."

They ran out to the Fountain District where Genesis clones were ransacking the cafes and coffee shops.

 _Gee, I know lattes are expensive but really?_ Zack and Sephiroth set their swords preparing for the takedown.

"You go on ahead Sephiroth. I'll take care of things here—"

But a flash in the corner of Zack's eye swiped like a laser, and he froze. When he looked up, a handful of clones laid dead at Sephiroth's feet. Zack just picked his jaw off the ground and followed.

A clone leapt behind Sephiroth, and Zack cut him down with a single well-timed slash. Sephiroth turned to see Zack at his back with a copy at his feet, and met his eyes with a nod.

They sprinted to the outskirts of Sector 8, and Zack looked around like he was going crazy. "Whoa, this is some serious trouble!"

The clones were like ants, they just kept coming! Lucky for them, Zack liked playing exterminator.

"We should split up," said Sephiroth.

"Got it." And Zack ran off to kick some Genesis assassins.

But a baton flipping out in front of him stopped him dead in his path, making him whirl to keep his balance. He looked over to see a Turk with crazy red hair like he'd rubbed a balloon over his head and stood in a lightning storm.

"Sector 8 is Turks jurisdiction, Slick." He lolled the baton on his shoulder. Another bull-rocker of a bald man joined him, but thankfully he said nothing. Finally, Tseng entered the crowd, and Zack found himself surrounded by suits with sticks up their—

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Zack whirled. "Tseng, do something!"

"The other areas…"

"Midgar's just crawling with nasties," crazy-hair flipped his hand.

"SOLDIER is having difficulties," bull-rocker finally spoke.

"Reno, Rude," and Tseng just wouldn't shut up.

"Just say the word," crazy-hair, aka Reno complained.

"Go."

"Yes sir." And with that, Reno and Rude ran off to find trouble to get into. Zack put his hands behind his head like the whole world had gone mad.

"So now we're outsourcing to the Turks?" he asked.

"SOLDIER's being stingy," a slight little voice answered him.

"There's a manpower shortage isn't there, wait—what!" He whipped around to see a little spitfire girl standing behind him with her arms crossed. "You're a Turk too?"

She was slight with hair as red as balloon-head over there that draped around her fitted black-suit collar like she just got out of the shower. Her weapon looked like a sharpened pinwheel, but she held it like she knew how to use it. Zack wondered what else she could hold like that?

"I'm Cissnei."

Her hazel eyes weren't infused with Mako. Thank god, a normal girl! Zack perked up and stuck his hand out.

"I'm Zack, pleasure to meet ya."

Then gunshots rang out, and Cissnei shoved Zack out of the way. A flip-twirl of her pinwheel sliced a leaping clone in the torso, dropping it dead in front of Zack. His jaw dropped.

Zack went to stand beside her. He looked over at her with a wayward gaze as she crouched down to the body. This clone seemed a cut above the rest, as a single charcoline wing protruded from its back.

"When I was a kid, I always wanted to have wings. You know, like an angel."

She spoke to him as if they'd known each other forever, like a young girl confiding in her best friend.

"If people had wings," he said with a solemn rouse, "they'd be monsters."

She shook her head with sad eyes.

"…Wings symbolize freedom for those who have none. They don't symbolize monsters."

When she stood up, worlds swirled in her eyes. She threw a little smile his way, and something in him smiled back.

"I'm sure we'll see each other again."

She waved, and took off down Loveless Avenue. Maybe not _all_ Turks were so bad.

 

[Received Key Item: SOLDIER 1st Class Uniform]


End file.
